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2034 Olympics: Soccer Match
Six Lasers - Cheyne Barrens - Space The Cowboy Planet is right next to the Gangster Planet and the Nazi Planet. Cheyne would be still a sad sack of a barren wasteland were it not for Six Lasers. Trillions of credits and man hours have gone into terraforming this planet in order to provide a breathable atmosphere and capable of supporting life. The planet is largely flat, heavily reminiscent of Earth's old Wild West. Theme parks here promote the idea of Cheyne being on the wild frontier. You can catch a ride on the Bucking Broncho Coaster, grab a bite at the local Ig-Yac Burger Commander joint, or go rustling for space cattle. Saloons and old wooden buildings serve as the architectural motif. Visitors are encouraged to get into the spirit of the frontier. 14 MILLION BCE... The Quintesson rests his tendril on the controls, looking up at his work. This was his masterpiece, he decided. The dull yellow sphere hovered lifelessly, but that wouldn't be the case for long. All around his workshop, mindless droids watch as the master puts the finishing touches on his creation. "I don't know what exactly this spark of life will evolve into," he tells the sphere, "Will they seek to help their fellows with peace and understanding, or be aggressive like my own people?" The Quintesson looks down at his tendril as it wraps around the lever. "Whatever their eventual destiny, I do know this: they will aspire to greatness." SEPTEMBER 21ST, 2034... "SOOOOOOccaAAR!" the mech shouts, holding his energon cupe up over his head with one hand. With each staggering step he takes, the cube tilts a little more, spilling some of the energon onto the field. He wobbles, optics glazing over. "soooCCCAA&blurggleblagh~!" the mech tries to shout, talk, and walk at the same time and topples, drops the energon cube, vomits all over the place, hits the ground in a puddle of half-processed energon, curls up into the fetal position, and begins sobbing loudly about how his Creation Factory never loved him. All around him, Autobots and Decepticons are limbering up for the match in the desert soccer stadium on Cheyne. The bleachers are filled with cheering and drunken aliens. Placed at strategic spots both on and off the field are large kegs full of both high octane energon and various organic wines. The ball droid is currently doing squat thrusts in the middle of the field, and the Kremzeek mascot is wearing his ref's uniform. He keeps looking around all nervous like. The Decepticon FOOTBALL team enters the pitch, at its head is Cyclonus. He does not look particularly happy. Skipping alongside him are some orphan children, as is the tradition for football teams (the orphans are from Turnbuckle and are used as a collatoral wager). "Hnn," he growls, looking with disdain at the motley Decepticon team with him. "After the dire performance underneath Cybertron, I expect you to use this as a chance to redeem yourself. There will be no running from /this/ field of battle." This is directly mostly at Fracas. "I shall stay in the area called 'goal' to ensure victory, however I will be watching your performeance closely. Cyclonus takes out a manual titled 'FOOTBALL - THE GLORIOUS GAME'. "This is a game called Foot-Ball. The goal is to get the ball to the other end, however you must not use hands or tractor beams." <'Decepticon'> Scourge says, "Cyclonus, I have sent Fracas to the soccer match while I instruct the Olympics committee how idiotic their teaming me with an Autobot against two Autobots is." <'Decepticon'> Cyclonus says, "I hope for his sake he performs more effectively than he did on Cybertron. If he does you disservice... well let us say, he will not get a second chance." Remember when Blades had some tracking software uploaded into his head to monitor Blades's incompetent hand-optic abilities? That didn't stop being a thing. Blades still has software in his head tracking how he moves and his reflexes. Mostly, the software just reports things like, 'Blades, you blow at killing Scorn.' That's true. Unfortunately. Now, Blades is in the net, pacing back and forth, sometimes whacking at the astroturf with a blade. He says aloud, "I think I saw a dandelion." Blades is in the net because there might be a lawsuit if he stabs someone. Better to keep him away from everyone else! Jazz steps onto the Soccer field as a proud representant of the Autobots. Jazz smiles and waves playing the crowd like the smooth cat he is. He points to the Decepticons and claps encouraging the crowd cheer for both teams. Having been ordered here while Scourge sorts out something utterly scandalous and despicable (probably his goatee), Fracas is hoping there's scantily clad females in this socare game. "Can we use guns? I like guns. Heck, I like them so much I become one now." First Aid stteps out after Jazz and heads to join Blades. Soon he's jogging back and forth in front of the Autobot net, trying to make sure he's good and limber. He then stops so he can do his stretching exercises. "I really like soccer," he says to his fellow Protectobot. "It's a good, gentlemaly, non-violent sport." He hasn't heard about the mandatory shot rule. He thought all the kegs were just there in case somebody had to refuel. Seems like a right good idea to him. "So, you know what to do as a goalie, right?" he asks Blades. Blast Off has entered the contest because, not long ago, he tried his hand at a soccer-like game and did well. Perhaps he has a kneck for this game, due to his speed and skill? Time to find out. He finisshes sampling some of the organic wines and heads after Cyclonus, taking his place on the field. He looks a bit haughty at Cycnonus' speech. "I am sure my performance will be far more than satisfactory." To Fracas, he states, "Well, there's something we both agree on then. Guns do make everything better." The Combaticon glares at the Autobots, especially the Protectobot at the goal. "No," Cyconus clarifies to Fracas. "You must use your feet to kick the ball there." He points to the net behind Blades. "Once in the net, we gain a 'goal'. Additionally you may kick the opposing team and attempt to break their legs. This is to be encouraged. The third method of play is to feign injury." Blades replies to First Aid, "...goalie? Oh, right. Me. I get to use my hands, and if the ball goes in the net, everyone gets mad at me, so I keep it out. Yeah?" The Kremzeek mascot heads to the centre of the field, still looking around nervously. Come on you fat bastard, he thinks. Where are you? He just knows Gycony isn't going to take this Six Lasers victory laying down. Sitting down, maybe. After all, Gycony is too fat to stand for long, he reasons. The ball droid, an adorable little silver mech who's just completing his exercises, nods sagely to Kremzeek. The mascot then raises his voice. "Ha ha! Soccer is great. Six Lasers is great! Thus... /Extra great/?!" The crowd cheers because they're all stupid. "Ok ok, time to get show on road. Team Captain for Fighting Primes, come here! Team Captain for All Glory To Galvatron, Lord And Master Of The Universe, He Who Rules Over All, Hail Galvatron, come here!" Nodding at Cyclonus, "So no guns. We're possitive about that? Cause if I shoot that guy he won't be between me and the net." Fracas considers, "So I can kick him in the face and that's all right yeah?" Kremzeek stops and thinks about that team name. What idiot approved that?! <'Decepticon'> Fracas says, "So can I shoot that Kremzeek guy?" <'Decepticon'> Cyclonus says, "Hmm, records suggest that after a 'football' match, a violent fray breaks out. It is at this time that you may murder whomever you wish, but not a moment before!" <'Decepticon'> Fracas says, "Right, we need to win. Fast." <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "I agree." First Aid nods to Blades. "Right, just keep the ball out and pass it if you get it. Oh! And be sure to have fun, Blades. I know we lost our team match but I think this is going to be a grand chance to get in something not-so-deadly this Olympics." Aid looks over to Jazz. He's the team captain, right? Cyclonus stands by the goal. He has just made his way over, and isn't about to give up his position easily. "Blast Off!" he booms to the only competant Con (aside from him) in the team. "Attend the Kremzeek!" Space Going B-1R Lancer shows up with the previous season's space vuvuzelas. <'Decepticon'> Fusillade says, "Okay, guys, if you don't win, I am totally going to blow on this space vuvuzela from now until eternity." Jazz steps up as the Fighting Prime's Captain. He is all smiles and maybe a bit cocky but he would not be any other way. Kremzeek bobs his entire body up and down at Jazz and Blast Off. He then points to the Combaticon. "Call in air!" he then tosses a Shanix up. Up, up, up! It's twirling! It's so beautiful! Blast Off waits for the match to start. He had a little time for some hasty "how-to" soccer websites... but that's about it. So he's kind of winging this. He glances over as Cyclonus issues an order and the shuttle nods to the purple, horned one and heads over to Kremzeek. He stands there next to the mascot, looking disdainfully down at him- and towards Jazz. Blast Off looks up. "Tails- because you'll only be seeing my afterburners as I rush past you..." <'Decepticon'> Fracas says, "HEY! They have Mercusinthe next to the field!" Kremzeek snorts at Blast Off. "Ha ha, that stupidest way to choose coin flip Kremzeek ever heard! No way wi- oh." The mascot catches the coin and looks at it. "Uh. Ok tail it is. All Glory To Galvatron, Lord And Master Of The Universe, He Who Rules Over All, Hail Galvatron will take kickoff." Kremzeek toddles back to the sidelines, having done his job. He looks up into the stands upon hearing the most annoying sound ever. Those idiots from last year just had to offer vuvuzelas. "Hey! You!" he shouts at Fusillade. <'Decepticon'> Cyclonus says, "Excellent coin flip Blast Off, well done" The sleek bomber rears up, wings collapsing onto hips even as the rear fuselage splits to form arms. The horizontal stabilizer slides up, the forward fuselage folds up accordian style, and Fusillade hops up on thrustered feet. <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "Of Course!" Vrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrnnn-frt?! "Eh?!" Fusillade calls out from the sidelines in inquiry at the call of Kremzeek. "WHAT?" Blast Off takes the kickoff, grabbing control of the ball. Kremzeek shouts, "Six Laser give you whole high octane energon keg if you stop playing stupid trumpet!" For those just joining us, there are kegs scattered both on and off the field. Whenver the ball droid changes possession, all must drink. It is Soccer Law. Swerve has signed up for The Fighting Primes. Blast Off smirks internally as his call is succesful. "Give me that," he says to Kremzeek, taking possession of the ball. He takes a few steps to the side, looking for an opening and waiting for an opportune moment to take action. Cyclonus stands rigidly at the goal, arms behind his back as he waits to see what Fracas and Blast Off will do. "Galvatron expects!" he growls at the two. "Rest assured, if you lose this match, you will not be returning for a second year." Cyclonus brought along the Variable Voltage Harness just in case! Figuring the best way to get some mercusinthe is to hit someone, but not really having a clue about the tackling, and besides he's too far away to hit an Autobot. Ahhh, move closer. And so Fracas charges off heading for the other teams end so he can kick them. "DEAL!" Fusillade shouts, prancing down to the keg and immediately scooping up a tremendous jug of liquid, draughting it with a wild 'WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!' before running directly onto the field, sprinting toward the centerline and Blast Off's position. Fracas moves to Zone 1. Fusillade has signed up for All Glory To Galvatron, Lord And Master Of The Universe, He Who Rules Over All, Hail Galvatron!. Swerve jogs up behind Jazz and gets into position! Position consists of standing there making what he thinks are menacing faces at the Decepticons. "I'm gonna show 'em my Game Face," he asides to Jazz, before pointing two fingers at Cyclonus and then his own visor to indicate that Swerve has his eye on the opposing team captain. First Aid watches as Blast Off takes the ball. Having just fought against Buzz "I'm a psychopath" Kill, he's not particularly eager to get into another grudge match. The Protectobot stays in the backfield, but is trying to more or less match up to where Blast Off is moving off to the side. The medic also has his optic on Fracas, though. He's played this game before, so he knows a bit about the strategy. "I sense a pass coming up," he tells Swerve. "Cover Fracas, will you? I'll stick with Blast Off in case he makes a break for it." Scoop idly trots up to the field, mostly to see what everyone is talking about on the radio. Scratchs his helm with one hand. "Well this is the strangest looking battle field I've ever seen." Waves at one end of the field with a hand. "What a dumb place to put a jail, anyone can break out of it on the actual field." Fusillade , "look sf" Jazz smiles and nods at Swerve and makes a dash for Blast Off to either force a move or totally throttle him. "Let's get this party started! Fighting Primes GO!" Jazz moves to Zone 2. Blades leans against one side of the net and crosses his arms. He sighs and glares at Jazz when Blast Off wins the kickoff. He mutters, "Smokescreen would have just cheated, and we'd have won the coinflip." Swerve moves to Zone 2. Kremzeek folds his arms, smugly satisfied in victory over Lord Gycony. He's so satisfied and so smug, in fact, that he doesn't even notice the faint, subtle rumble of the ground. It's probably just everybody cheering and soccering so hard. Blast Off , still holding the ball, is a bit startled at Cyclonus' statement. A wing aeliron twitches nervously as he replies, "That- that will NOT be neccessary, I assure you... and... anyway, surely our desire to bring glory to the name of Galvatron should count for something, .... right?" He focuses back on the game, rocket foot nudging the ball away as First Aid and Jazz get closer. "Oh, the party already started, Jazz- you're just LATE!" and with that, he kicks the ball over to Fracas. Blast Off passes the ball to Fracas. Cyclonus makes a mental note of Swerve's actions. Obviously the Autobot wishes to have his eyes gouged out in the post-match fight. This can easily be arranged. He watches the Decepticons running about, tutting as Fusillade runs onto the pitch drinking heavily. "Destroy them, push forwards, show no cowardice!" he shouts. Scoop finds a spot to sit down and watch, and a moment later he's joined by his partners as well. Though Tracer makes a face at seeing Fracas out there and leans closer to Scoop and Holepunch. "Since when did that freak get binary bonded to someone?" "Maybe Zarak just invited more friends out to play for the Olympics." Scoop isn't really paying much attention to them though, as he holds up his hands to his mouth. "Com'n Autobots! Show 'em how we... do whatever it is you're doing out there! Kicking.. some... spherical thing..." His wheels rock as he shrugs his shoulders. "Doesn't matter, go do it the best you can!" With Autobots already on the move to intercept Blast Off, Fusillade moves alongside, before pumping fist triumphantly as the first pass goes quite well. "Can't have anyone PILING onto Fracas though, can we?" the dark grey and white bomber says with a flashed smile at Jazz as she slides toward him, toe pointed at the center side of his closest foot!! Fusillade tackles Jazz! Fracas HAS THE BALL! Which he's somewhat mystified at cause he was pretty sure he was about to tackle First Aid in the face. Oh well he has the ball now, so he stops and looks back at Cyclonus, "In the net right? And then we shoot them yes?" He doesn't wait for an answer, and instead kicks the ball with all the might his little armoured Nebulon legs can provide and aims for the net behind Blades (or maybe for Blades head, who can say for sure, hitting either would likely satisfy Fracas). "SHOOT ALREADY! We're TOO FAR AWAY!!" Fusillade booms across the field at the Sweep's partner. He likes being yelled at, TOO, right? Fracas shoots on goal! Two untackled defenders available: Blurr and First Aid. Blades makes the save! The ball squeaks, "That was an all star save, #475!" "I'm open, I'm open!" Swerve yells back to the Autobot goalie. Scoop transforms into his Tracer and Holepunch mode. <'Decepticon'> Cyclonus says, "Excellent attempt, Fracas. I see you have learnt to run towards the enemy now." The payloader more or less stands up on its end and folds the shovel back to become a heroic robot. Kremzeek watches, blowing his whistle. "Hey. HEY! That TWO ball possession changes! That mean two shots you silly robots!" The ground shaking is still happening. Jazz gets blindsided by Fusillade as he was charging Blast-Off. The white mech rolls with the impact and leaps in Blast-Off's direcrion. "Well played lady. I have not foergotten about you BO." Jazz tries to tackle Blast Off but he escapes. First Aid sticks with Scourge (Scourge is totally here right?!) until he realizes that it's actually some Nebulon that he doesn't recognize. Weird how he made that mistake. The Protectobot sticks with Fracas for as long as possible until the little guy takes the shot. The ball whirls past him, and Aid turns to watch as the save is made. He cheers. "Nice work, Blades!" To Fracas, he says, "Nice shot." Upon hearing the ruling, he heads to the keg and downs two shots. "Wait... this isn't energon cider!" he says, aghast. Blades throws himself down on the ball as the ball heads towards the net. He shouts, "Hah, gotcha!" Blades pulls one of the blades off his back and is about to behead the ball when Swerve shouts that Blades should shoot the ball to him. So Blades wings the ball at Swerve. He puts his blade away and looks shifty. Then Blades chugs two shots. Yeah. Blades passes the ball to Swerve. Swerve snags the ball out of the air with his weird little hands and a whoop of glee. "Prepare yourselves for my secret technique, Deceptichumps! This is how I almost saved the Remoral Princeling of Rigel VII when the evil Regent Supreme threw him into the volcanic Pits of Sorrow!" He transforms to reveal his Secret Gerwalk Mode! Swerve transforms. Truck Quest! Two-Tone Scion Pickup keeps one door transformed into an arm so he can hold the ball as he revs his engine and zooms towards the opposing goal! "Secret weapon GO!" Swerve shoots on goal! Two untackled defenders available: Blast Off and Fusillade. Swerve scores! The ball transforms into robot mode and steps out of the net, "I knew you could do it, Swerve!" All players have been untackled and reset to their starting positions. Blades peeks through his fingers to check how many people senselessly died in the process of Swerve making a shot. Anyone? Yeah, Blades is just going to go do another shot, just in case. "... I still have no idea what they're actually doing, but it looks interesting. Some sort of alternate form of comba--" "HEY! What are you doing on the bench?" Scoop stops as some officials interrupt by yelling at him. "Huh?" "And what's with that new color scheme Scrapper? You look like some cheap orange knock off!" Blink. "I think there's been some mistake gentlemen, I'm not Scra--" "Don't be silly." One of the hulking aliens raps on the shovel on Scoop's back. "No one else turns into a payloader." The two of them grab Scoop by the arms, and HEAVE. "Now get out there and play! You're Devestator's foot, you should be good at kicking!" Scoop lands uncerimonously on the turf, face first. "... What just happened?" "I'm -not- drunk enough for this," Fusillade deadpans as Swerve commits obscenity. "INDECENT!" She holds up a hand aside one side of her face as she cruises over to the sidelines and takes a shot as directed by Kremzeek. "Huh," she says noncomitally as Swerve takes advantage of the unprotected position and scores. Kremzeek shouts, "That another one!" Suddenly, the stadium stops shaking, and a massive glass dome folds out from around it, just like that awesome Marvel comic where Club Con flew into space. "Uh." says Kremzeek, looking up. The crowd is getting too blitz to notice, though. Scoop gets up and brushes himself off. Then kinda shrugs at the other Decepticons. ".. I guess they're trying to promote fair, unbiased play or something? Jogging past Scoop, Fracas remarks, "You're the wrong shade of green, bad paint job recently?" Yes, Scoop is obviously just a Constructicon having a bad paint day. However at the demand they drink, Fracas is happy to oblige, jobbing past the attendants at the edge of the pitch and grabbing a mercusinthe, which he downs in one. Ignoring everyone on the pitch who may have been planning to go for the ball, Fracas grabs it and starts jobbing back towards Cyclonus, "I think I figured this out, we need to keep our ball away from those idiots over there." Fracas points to the Bots, and remains away from them. Fracas takes the kickoff, grabbing control of the ball. "Hnn," Cyclonus is too horrified at the sight of Swerve's 'gerwalk' mode to react to the ball as it sails between his horns and into the goal. "Thirty Quatloos for the first Decepticon to cripple the Minibot!" he announces "Stop sittin' around, we gotta get better coverage of our shooter!" Fusillade says to the bewildered Scoop as she trots past. A sharp whistle sounds, "Come'n get it, suckers!" as she dares the Autobots to intercept. Fusillade moves to Zone 1. <'Decepticon'> Fracas says, "How much mercusinthe does thirty quatloos buy?" <'Decepticon'> Cyclonus says, "Half a Ducoliter, Fracas" <'Decepticon'> Fracas says, "And can I shoot him in order to cripple him?" <'Decepticon'> Cyclonus says, "During the post-match riot. In the match you may only break his legs." Scoop blinks. ".. Uh, okay." Having no better idea what's going on, he follows after Fusillade. "Sorry guys, guess I tossed on the other side to make it fair or something," he apologizes to the Autobots. Meanwhile, Holepunch and Tracer are still sitting on the sidelines. "Is it just me, or is this like something that would of happened in a cartoon?" <'Decepticon'> Cyclonus says, "These are the ancient rules of Football" <'Decepticon'> Fracas says, "By shooting his legs right?" Scoop moves to Zone 1. Blast Off sees Jazz coming for him after his successful pass and deftly dodges out of the way. "You'll have to be quicker than that to stop me, Autofool!" He keeps position on the field, watching, noting the odd ground-shaking- then sees Swerve catch the ball. Well, there's no way- waitaminiute- he's gonna score! Blast Off runs across the field to try and intercept, but too late. Then Scoop gets dumped on their team. "What is the meaning of this? He's not one of us...." Further protests are quieted as a massive glass dome unfolds around the stadium. "What is that?" He notes the ball is in possession of the Cons again and runs across the field, trying to be useful- but also keeping on optic on his surroundings. Cyclonus says something about a reward for taking out the Minibot, so he runs up towards Swerve, hovering... Blast Off moves to Zone 1. First Aid signals a new round. All players are now untackled. Round 3 has begun. First Aid claps as Swerve pulls off a super transforming shot trick. "Woo! Score one for ush!... I... I mean us....h." Oh oh. Wait, that's another ball possession change. First Aid sips another shot. Maybe if he nurses this one? As he prays that Fracas doesn't pass, he then jogs after Fusillade to keep track of her. "Hi... you don't have any irrational hatred towardsh me, right?" he asks hopefully. Two-Tone Scion Pickup flings the ball into the goal and drifts around behind the net in a dizzy powerslide to the sound of vuvuzelas before returning to his position. "Yeah! High five!" Still in his stubby car mode he goes around high-fiving everyone who doesn't avoid him with the one arm sticking out on his way back into the opposing side. One of them is unfortunately not a robot, but some kind of crystalline entity, and his pink quartz-like arm snaps off and goes spinning into the crowd, spearing a jellyfish-guy through the jellyfish equivalent of a neck. "Oooh," Swerve winces audibly, transforming. "And that's why we don't use the gerwalk modes. Sorry, folks. Sorry for the abomination." SENSELESS SWERVE-RELATED FOOTBALL CASUALTIES: 002 "Even more like Prince Quest now," Swerve remarks to himself, embarrassed. Swerve moves to Zone 2. The little red-and-white truck transforms into an equally chunky little Autobot with a big face on a small head. Blades malingers in the net, looking surly. This is what Blades does. He covers his face again because of gerwalk Swerve. Then he shouts, "Devastator won't save you, Decepticons! Scrapper's gonna get scrapped!" There, now Scoop's cover identity is sealed. "What it is," Kremzeek answers Blast Off. "Is stupid you-know-who being stupid!" With the glass dome in place, the entire stadium begins rocketing up into the sky! Lord Gycony's bellowing laughter can be heard over the intercom. Jazz cheers and claps for Swerve pointing at the minibot. "Right on buddy!" He shrugs at Blast Off "Meh we scored anyway." He returns to his zone for the next kickoff and prepares to run some defensive interference. He spots Scoop who has been thrown in the other team. "Sorry buddy nothing personal." Jazz tackles Scoop! First Aid signals a new round. All players are now untackled. Round 4 has begun. <'Decepticon'> Fracas says, "Hey, I don't want this ball, I want to kick someone. That guy that scored is close by... where can I stick this ball?" Spotting Swerve coming for him (or at least coming somewhere near him), Fracas comments, "Screw this, I want another drink. Or to shoot someone. Shoot someone while drinking!" And with the he gives the ball an almight kick in the direction of a random Decepticon (which happens to be Blast Off). And then he runs to the side of the pitch to get another drink. Fracas passes the ball to Blast Off. Cyclonus looks up as the stadium starts to fly away. Normally he would be upset about being kidnapped, but he assumes it is just some more of this Olympic politiking. He makes a mental note to send Scourge and a team to kill Lord Gycony for this inconvenience the moment the Olympics have finished. "Press the attack!" he booms to the Decepticons (and Scoop). "I want no Autobot left standing!" Scoop oofs as Jazz stylishly smacks into him. Okay, guess he will just play along with the thing. Okay, so how do constructicon's act? Smash stuff? Wait, that's the bulldozer, not the whoever he's suppose to be. "Yeah. Nothing personal. While I construct your losing this game!" And he tries to throw Jazz back onto the ground. <'Decepticon'> Cyclonus says, "The stadium seems to be being stolen. I would like Intelligence to confirm that this is just Lord Gycony playing up, and not some weary Quintesson trap." Scoop tries to tackle Jazz but he escapes. <'Decepticon'> Fracas (getting slightly drunk) says, "What... it isn't just me that the ground is moving for?" Fusillade shimmies a bit as she tries to stay on the mechanical balls of her feet, hunched and hands out for balance. Her brilliant saffron optics lock coyly on First Aid. "Oh, of COURSE I do! It's how I let mechanoids know that I've actually noticed them. You're especially on my gritlist since you REPAIR things and UNDO all of my awesome -WORK!-" With that last syllable spat out fiercely, she takes a sliding dive to wedge her forearms between and under First Aid's boxy feet. She may or may not attempt to bite his ankle joint too. Fusillade tries to tackle First Aid but he escapes. <'Decepticon'> Cyclonus says, "Fracas, I would remind you that drinking on duty is a disciplinary offence. If I should learn that you are intoxicated, I will have Scourge get one of his Sweeps to /flush your system/, are we clear?" Fracas spots his team mates fail to tackle, and drunkely remarks, "Said should just shoot them." Blast Off looks up as Kremzeek answers his question. Oh great, Gycony. The fat organic that Blast Off is now, unfortunately, in a business deal with. With Blurr, of all mechs. *sigh* The things he does to try and pay off his debts to Swindle.... While the Combaticon was distracted, Swerve heads off onto the other side of the field. Blades' comment just gets a look of near-pity. "Right. Scrapper. He must have just picked up some color while he was offplanet...!" Shaking his head, he keeps watching the ball- and the stadium, when time permits. Which it doesn't for long- because Fracas passes the ball to the Combaticon. Alright, time to repeat history and shoot a goal, like that time before! He (hopefully) swerves his way though the other team and quickly nears the goal- and shoots! Blast Off shoots on goal! Three untackled defenders available: Jazz, Blurr, and First Aid. Blades makes the save! The ball transforms into robot mode, "Imma lil' dizzy now..." <'Decepticon'> Fracas says, "They said it was the rules we had to pass, score, or tackle if we drink... wait I may have gotten that wrong..." First Aid signals a new round. All players are now untackled. Round 5 has begun. "Two more! Two more! Two more!" the crowd chants as the ball droid is first passed and then shot. They're even joining in with the game by following the rule themselves. A few fistfights have broken out in the stands. The stadium, meanwhile, is passing through the upper atmosphere of Cheyne. Huge FTL engines fold out from underneath it. Holepunch and Tracer look at each other in confusion as the crowd keeps chanting about 'Two More'. "Any idea what's up with that?" "Not a clue." First Aid's optics widen. That's two more changes of possession! He's just finished the one he had and already he has to grab two more. Now both his hands are full as he toddles around. "Scraplets are scary Shwerve!" he suddenly shouts, getting his radio and his real voice confused for a moment. Then he sees a shadow pass over him. The shadow is Fusillade. "Eeeee!" he turns, sprints, trips, and spills one of his energon cubes. He doesn't get hit by the sliding dive, though, so... victory? "I bet you secretly like me!" he shouts at Fusillade. Blame Swerve. Jazz gets up after tackling Scoop and narrowly avoids being tackled himself. "Close call." He watches Blades make the save "Yeah Blades the Cerberus!" Jazz takes a quick look at the field and runs into the Decepticon zone to give Swerve a hand. Jazz moves to Zone 2. Swerve does his best to keep Fracas behind him as he waits to see if a ball comes his way. Blades throws himself down on the ball as if it was a balloon filled with energon. Sadly, it does not pop and shower him with fuel. Blades takes another shot to soothe his disappointment. He comments to the ball, "So we're being kidnapped or something? But there's an open bar, and I'm required to drink, so... wait? Does the ball have to drink, too?" Blades tries to pour some shots into the ball and then he flings it at Swerve. Blades tries to pass to Swerve, but the pass goes awry! The ball hmms, "No, I'd really rather All Glory To Galvatron, Lord And Master Of The Universe, He Who Rules Over All, Hail Galvatron! win." The ball then suddenly changes course! After a long chase, the ball is finally caught by Blurr. Swerve jumps up to try to grab the ball but it bounces off his fingers and goes elsewhere! Blurr is suddenly on the soccer field. The speedster rushes down from the stands, and the crowds roar with approval as he catches the ball as it soars toward the other end of the arena! Yes he's good at more than just racing! "Hey guys, sorry I'm late, got caught up with the fan clubs." Without wasting another astrosecond, he makes a beeline for the goal, his body turning into a streak of blue and white! Swerve sees Blurr coming this way and tries to clear a path for him by holding back Fracas. "Yeah, bring it in! We've got you covered!" Swerve tries to tackle Fracas but he escapes. Blurr moves to Zone 2. First Aid signals a new round. All players are now untackled. Round 6 has begun. Cyclonus points a finger at Blurr. "Decepticons! Get the ball! Snap his legs off if you must!" Ducking to brush something off his foot, Fracas is missed by Swerve trying to tackle him (though he is oblivious to this fact). Looking around him as he downs another shot (there was possibly a reason for it, but he can't recall), he spots Blurr with the ball, and so rushes off to try tackling him. And by tackle we mean punch him in the leg with the pair of knuckle dusters he's somehow suddenly wearing. Fracas tackles Blurr! The ball activates its booster rockets! After a long chase, the ball is finally caught by Jazz. "PHHHT!" Fusillade snorts contemptuously at First Aid. "Don't hold your exhaust! You're the wrong colors, wrong faction, and TOTALLY the wrong build." She tipples the mecursinthe, reociling and gagging a bit, before swirling her arms in the air, "Whee! We're flying!" Has she become aware of the stadium moving through space? Hard to tell. She trots back in a meandering stagger to move back towards the tender graces of Cyclonus's scowl. "WHOA hey the ball is flying too! Wheee!" Fusillade moves to Zone 2. ".. Are we suppose to go the other side again? Okay then!" Scoop starts jogging in the other zone... which isn't really all that quickly, he's a big blocky mech after all. Scoop moves to Zone 2. *FWHOOSH!* The stadium explodes into FTL drive, and Lord Gycony's voice comes over the intercom. "Soccer fans and players! We are now in /Monacan/ space, so all alcohol taxes and merchandising are now going to ME!" "You fiend!" Kremzeek shouts as if this was a really horrible crime. <'Decepticon'> Cyclonus says, "Hnn" Blast Off 's dreams of scoring are shattered as Blades catches the ball. The Combaticon suddenly remembers the rule about drinking and realizes he's been so focused on the game- and the kindapping of their surroundings, apparently, that he hadn't done so. The Combaticon rushes over for a quick drink of the organic wine, then back to the field. Just in time to see something else he doesn't like- Blurr. "Show off. Fan Clubs... fan clubs for the feeble-minded, perhaps...." he mutters. He's not jealous at all, nope. Cyclonus mentions breaking Blurr's legs. "Well! If you insist, Cyclonus!" He perks up and runs down the field towards Blurr and the ball. <'Decepticon'> Fracas says, "HEY! I kicked someone! And they lost their ball!" <'Decepticon'> Cyclonus says, "Scourge, when these Olympics are over, I would like you to return the favour to Lord Gycony" Blast Off moves to Zone 2. First Aid signals a new round. All players are now untackled. Round 7 has begun. <'Decepticon'> Scourge says, "About time, the fat lump has been a pain in our sides for too long. And will someone tell me why Fracas sounds drunk?" "Wooo!" First Aid shouts, "We schored!" he shouts even though they have not scored. He's got another two in his hand per the rules. Wobbling back to Blades in net, he says, "Did you hear? Fusillade likes me!" "HAZZIT -CHANGED- though?!" Fusillade shouts up randomly at Gycony. "AHLL totally do my MASHES inure say-shay-STAYdiums!" Swerve belts down a shot from a flask labelled 'Nailed To The Wagon' and ducks his shoulder to go after Blast Off, who looks reasonably fragile and less likely to punch him in the mouth than the big jet lady. Swerve tackles Blast Off! <'Decepticon'> Cyclonus says, "He has been made aware of the rules against drinking on duty, so I hope for his sake he is not" Meanwhile someone has finally bothered to explain the drinking rules to Holepunch and Tracer. "Oh, well then--" But then Tracer interrupts him, "Why don't you just give us whatever drinks Sco--I mean, Scrapper accumilates. We're his units, it's just like giving them to him." ".. Eh, close enough." The worker who really doesn't want to be doing this anyways just passes them a tray of mugs and walks off. "Actually," Holepunch adds after a moment, "Since he's playing for the other side wouldn't it be more prudent to GIVE Scoop his drinks?" "Give him your share if you want," Tracer retorts as he sits back, "But I ain't passin' up the chance." Blurr grins when he spots Blast Off. "Heeey, partner!" he laughs, running up to him just as Swerve tackles him. "I've been meaning to talk to you, a bunch of Six Lasers' business partners have approached me about testimonials with the two of us. Gycony was right, the crowds really love us on the same team. A few extra shanix could never hurt, right?" Blades takes another shot, because, and hollers, "Jazz! Take this tune de capo!" Oh yeah, this net is great. Best net. Also. "...this is probably the smoothest kidnapping I've seen, y'know? Four and half stars, would be kidnapped again." Following the pass attempts and eventually Blurr making a quick run only to be tackled the ball flies off in Jazz's direction. Jazz hits the ball with this head to give it some altitude. Grins at Cyclonus, spins around goes for a stylish cartwheel kick to send the ball towards the Decepticon goal. Jazz shoots on goal! Three untackled defenders available: Fracas, Fusillade, and Scoop. Jazz scores! The ball hmms, "Kinda Freudian here..." All players have been untackled and reset to their starting positions. The Autobots shred the Decepticon's defenses and score a goal. Thank goodness the war is not decided on the field of football. "They are fielding /Minibots/!" Cyclonus scowls. "Go forth and strike them down, make them suffer in agony for every inch they take!" Staggering to where Holepunch and Tracer are enjoying Scrappers drink, Fracas eyes them enjoying drinks meant for the Constructicon, "Hey... you shouldn't be stealing his drinks. I've heard he builds giant butt lasers in his spare time. He'll shoot you." The very inebriated Nebulon suddenly displays why drinking and running around a football pitch is a bad combinat, and proceeds to expel some of the alcohol he has drunk over Tracer. He then turns and staggers back onto the field, feeling much better for that wee chat with his fellow Nebulons. Deciding he doesn't want the ball this time, Fracas makes a run for the Autobot side, intent on kicking that Blurr guy again as it was rather fun last time. "Why don't YOU!?" Fusillade shouts back at Cyclonus. "FAT LOTTA GOOD you've BEEN doing THERE!" Fracas moves to Zone 1. "...What?" Gycony's voice booms in reply to Fusillade. He has no idea what she said. "Stop talking so drunk!" The ship shoots out of FTL, and the dirty, polluted world of Monacas looms below. Kremzeek sighs and reaches for one of the kegs, determined to not remember any of this. Tracer gets barfed on. "Now I know what Flintlock and Silencer feel like working with Landfill." "Because I am in /goal/, /Fusillade/, Cyclonus retorts calmly. "I would watch your vocal processor when talking to your superiors if you do not wish it to be added to the Sweep's trophy cabinet. " Fusillade says, "Am in STASIS lettin' things FLY PAST ME!" Fusillade adds Scoop looks at Fusillade and Cyclonus yelling at each other, one of the drunk, and the other just pissy in general. "Yeeeeah, I think I'm gonna just go screw with the other side again. Raawr, me Constructicon, go smash things like Bonecrusher." Scoop moves to Zone 1. Fusillade sulks, and shuffles upfield, compliant despite her backtalk. Fusillade moves to Zone 1. Blast Off is running down the field when something moves near his feet. Just as he looks down and registers the mini-bot, Swerve is suddenly swooping in for a sneaky stop of his smooth sailing. The Combaticon stumbles and has to really twist and turn to gain his footing again. What is it with mini-bots ruining his glory? Tailgate, now Swerve... this is just unfair! And speaking of which, he bristles at Blurr's statement, glaring at the 'Bot. "...." He finally replies, "Why would they love...? ...*sigh* ...Great. It just sounds... lovely. How much shanix, .."partner"?" Blast Off does NOT sound like he actually thinks it sounds lovely. Blast Off takes the kickoff, grabbing control of the ball. First Aid signals a new round. All players are now untackled. Round 9 has begun. <'Decepticon'> Fusillade says, "Wat is WRIONG with that slimeball?! I was preferctly CLEAR about doing matches at Monacus!" "Hey, you're a tall drink of high-test," Swerve offers to Fusillade, by way of trying to keep her busy so Blurr can run by unhindered. Swerve tackles Fusillade! Blades pulls out a deck of cards and starts building a house made out of cards in his goal. This is INTENSE. Concentration fairly drips off of Blades. Also, he does a shot. "Oh, I don't know--maybe 50 or so per shoot." Blurr chuckles, amused by Blast Off's reaction. "Hey what is it with you and minibots, it's like you've got a weakness for them or something? Yeah, I heard about what Tailgate did." Oh, whoops! The Combaticon has the ball now. How convenient--Blurr attempts to snatch it from him and boot it toward the goal. Jazz smirks at Fusillade and Cyclonus's exchange and decides to add some fuel to it. "Hey Fusillade. I would not worry. If the sweeps talents for catching prey matches his talents for catching a ball I am pretty sure you are safe girl." Jazz makes a few motions and sends some instructions to his team. Jazz hangs back on defense. First Aid is standing right next to Blades, talking in his radio about something. He isn't paying attention, but he does have a mandatory double shot energon cube in his hand. <'Decepticon'> Cyclonus says, "Do not fret Fusillade, there will be /many/ things wrong with him shortly." Blurr moves to Zone 2. First Aid signals a new round. All players are now untackled. Round 10 has begun. At his end of the field, Cyclonus has a datapad and is filing his taxes in an INTENSE manner. He briefly looks up to see Blast Off with the ball. "Blast Off, do not fail me!" Blast Off suddenly has the ball! Yes, he was too busy being snarky to really pay attention- but now he has the ball! He kicks it down the field as Blurr replies. "Tailgate... got lucky. That's it. Feel free to tell him the next time he does something like that I'll step on a STORE full of toasters!" Then Blurr seems to try and tackle him, but... a little prematurely. But anything Blurr does UNsuccessfully makes Blast Off feel better, and he rushes along, making a confident, long kick and hopefully passing the ball to Fusillade! Blast Off tries to pass to Fusillade, but the pass goes awry! The ball transforms just before being kicked and runs away. After a long chase, the ball is finally caught by Blurr. The stadium rotates as its rear thrusters fire. This potentially causes people to fall over, as it does to many in the stands. That they are compeltely shnookered probably does not help. A few more fights have broken out, with aliens and robots beating the ever loving hell out of each other. "Welcome to Monacus!" Lord Gycony says. And there's the kick!... Or not, as teh ball runs off to the Autobot instead. "Oh you have got to be kidding." Scoop turns and starts huffing it back to the other section, though it's probably not going to do much good. I'm sorry, WRONGLY COLORED SCRAPPER does that Jogging along as though he were perfectly sober, Fracas looks over his shoulder to spot Blast Off passing the ball to Blurr, "Hey, why didn't someone tell me we could do that!" and then proceeds to U-Turn as he jobs and jog back into his own teams half of the field. Passing 'Scrapper' on the way he comments, "I think I found people stealing your booze." Scoop moves to Zone 2. Fracas moves to Zone 2. Fusillade feels a minibot latch onto her, and with a shriek, tumbles down facefirst into the pitch. There's a snarl and a flurry of limbs, complete with an overt kick to the midriff as she rights herself. "You're ALSO wrong in the exact same WAYS" Kick. "As FIRST" Kick. "AID!" She's so preoccupied with castigating the Autobot that she doesn't get the ball. At all. Combat: Fusillade sets her defense level to Aggressive. Combat: Fusillade strikes Swerve with her Glad to Cleat You! (Kick) attack! "First Aid and me, we're totally sympatico that way!" Swerve claims inbetween getting beaten up. Jazz watches as Blurr intercepts and is suddenly surrounded by a bunch of Decepticons. The suave Autobot runs up the field to try and help out the speedster. Jazz moves to Zone 2. First Aid signals a new round. All players are now untackled. Round 11 has begun. First Aid keeps standing nex to his goalie. "Seriously," he says, continuing his conversation from the radio. "You are the best. Gloa... goal...ie. /Ever/." The doctor goes in for the hug. Combat: First Aid strikes Blades with his Hug (Grab) attack! Swerve gets up and dusts himself off after Fusillade takes off up the field, and focusses on interfering with Scrapper so that Blurr can get the ball through! Swerve moves to Zone 2. "Wow, the galaxy is sure full of lucky people then, if that's what's knocking you into stasis." Blurr taunts, moving down the field as Blast Off attempts to pass it to Fusillade. But being as fast on his feet as he is, he dashes in front of the fembot and intercepts the ball, forcing it to change course as he redirects it toward the Decepticon goal! Blurr shoots on goal! Three untackled defenders available: Fracas, Blast Off, and Scoop. Cyclonus makes the save! The ball transforms into robot mode, "Ok, that? That was a nice save." Blades's house of cards crumbles when First Aid hugs him, revealing that the suits are Protectobots, Aerialbots, Wreckers, and Technobots, however /that/ works. He looks sadly down at his scattered cards, and he reminds, "First Aid, optics on the field. You see those Decepticons? Especially Scrapper? You should be tackling them, as if they were children about to eat apples with razors inside them. Don't let the children eat razor aples, First Aid!" First Aid signals a new round. All players are now untackled. Round 12 has begun. Cyclonus catches the ball! In fact, he catches it quite easily, due to the gravity clamps he had just finished activating in his hands for a purely unrelated matter. "Make this one count!" he booms, before placing the ball down and booting it across the field Cyclonus passes the ball to Fusillade. "Eeee it's coming TOWARD MEEEEE!" Fusillade squeals with delight, pinwheeling her arms as the ball drone arcs toward her. Once she bounces it off the apex of one knee intake to her ankle to slow its flight, she brackets it between her toes like a broody shrikebat, and glances over her shoulder at both Blades and First Aid. With a surprising burst of thruster-assisted speed, she charges down the line, bearing to the left of the net before her orca-patterned leg flashes out in a blur of graphite and white, hurling the drone toward the goal! Fusillade shoots on goal! One untackled defender available: First Aid. Fusillade scores! The ball transforms into robot mode. "Personally, I don't think The Fighting Primes are out of it yet." All players have been untackled and reset to their starting positions. Cyclonus nods in satisfaction at Fusillade, and strikes her name deftly off the list he has been making on his datapad. "NOW WHAT?!" Fusillade barks, making swiping motion through the air with her hand as she juts her face inches away from First Aid's. With an 'OWWWWWWW' she whirls away, sashaying to the mercusinthe line, and cracking two containers open to rub them over her torso. Fracas takes a rest since he can. Refrains from further drinking at this time. Though he slowly edges closer to the Autobots half, ready to run over there. Blast Off can't believe it as Blurr intercepts the ball. Now that is just rude. Then comments about statis lock. "It was not stas..." But Blurr's gone already. But that comment is too much, especially coming from Blurr. The Combaticon rushes down the field as Cyclonus saves the day. Phew. This was beginning to look bad for their team, and he has no desire to find out just how far Cyclonus will make good his threats if their team loses. Fusi rushes down the field and scores. Another good thing... hopefully. Blast Off rushes over and guzzles down an extra BIG serving of the wine nearby, then rushes back. He may need that drink later. First Aid pulls back, but keeps holding onto Blades's shoulders. "You got it, Blades. Because you know what? You are the /besht/ goalie /ever/." The Protectobot lets go and wanders towards one of the kegs. After getting himself... what, are we up to like four more by now? First Aid wanders after Fusillade. Needless to say, her 'burst of thruster-assisted speed' goes to waste. After that he wanders into the offensive zone, determined to ask Cyclonus what the heck his silly looking ears are for. First Aid moves to Zone 2. "I don't know if I want that to be happening or not!" Swerve remarks, ogling the sportsmanship. He collects the ball and takes it to the kickoff line to fire it off. "Let's lock 'em out! Football quest!" Swerve takes the kickoff, grabbing control of the ball. Blades is distracted by First Aid's inappropriate display of platonic affection and the ball goes whizzing by him. Darn Fusillade and her sense of timing! He sighs, sits down, and glumly starts to collect his cards. Jazz does not let the goal get to him. It's a game it happens. The Autobot moves up the field. "Allright a little bit more guys we almost have this." Well the Decepticons had to score something in order for the game to be interesting at all, right? Right! Best to keep Gycony and Six Lasers happy. "Hey, congratulations, Decepticons! You finally scored! I was beginning to worry that this match was just going to turn out to be an even bigger bore than re-organizing the entire Iaconian archives from the Primal Vanguard all the way up to the present cycle." he taunts, zipping back over to enemy territory. Jazz moves to Zone 2. Blurr moves to Zone 2. "Blurr, take it!" Swerve calls out, kicking the ball forwards to the racebot. Swerve passes the ball to Blurr. The adoring fans scream out Blurr's name as the speedster successfully takes Swerve's pass. "By the way, Swerve--congratulations on the Free-For-All!" he calls out as he takes it. First Aid signals a new round. All players are now untackled. Round 14 has begun. "Thanks, that means a lot from you!" Swerve yells back happily. Soccer Field Blast Off runs at Blurr. "I would hate for you to get bored, Blurr. Consider me in charge of making sure you are NEVER bored..." he says menacingly. Then the crowds cheer Blurr's name. That REALLY does it. The Combaticon lunges at Blurr, trying to tackle him and gain the ball for the Cons! Scoop oofs. "All this running, I need to cool off." "Here, these are suppose to be yours anyways I guess." Holepunch walks up to hand Knockoff Scrapper some of his drinks. "Ah, perfect!" He grabs several of them in each hand and gulps them down in rapid succession. "Much better!" He hands the mugs back to Holepunch and leaves him to rush off the field as the game starts up again. "Okay, time to get serious!" I'm so sorry about this Blurr, but gotta keep up the whatever he's doing at this point. He starts to run towards Blurr as he's passed the ball, then transforms and tries to 'tackle' the Autobot with his scoop instead. "Let's see if you can DIG this!" Scoop drops to the ground on his big wheels and deploys his awesome shovel. Blast Off tries to tackle Blurr but he escapes. Scoop tackles Blurr! The ball transforms into robot mode, shows off a few disco moves, and then runs away. After a long chase, the ball is finally caught by Blast Off. Oooo, that ugly Bot has the ball again, so Fracas runs towards him to try kicking him in the legs again and get the ball off him. Others seem to get their first, and sso Fracas is robbed of stealing the ball. So instead he charges into the other teams half, making a rude Nebulon gesture in Swerves direction as he gets near him. It likely means nothing to a human never mind a Cybertronian. Fracas moves to Zone 1. Cyclonus is back to dynamically doing his taxes, and gives a nod of encouragement. It is nearly 4am, so that is pretty much all you're getting boyos Fusillade dabs a finger on the mercury-based beverage splashed on her, and scowls, before looking up at the sky. "GUYS. Guys guys. GUYS!" She points upward. "the STARS are different!!!" She takes another shot, and then toddles back over to First Aid. "HEY. Hey. Maybe you were right. Let's see something." A fiendish leer crosses her face, and... Fusillade tackles First Aid! First Aid signals a new round. All players are now untackled. Round 15 has begun. Fusillade urges, "Squirm! I like thrashing!" She nods emphatically, hopefully. Jazz watches Blurr get the ball "Yes!" and get tackled "Slag!" The Agent Meister runs towards Blast Off and tackles him hoping a fellow bot will get the ball. "Have at them Autobots!" Jazz tries to tackle Blast Off but he escapes. "Gotcha!" Swerve cries as he transforms and tries to 'intercept' Fracas. Look out, Fracas! It's insurance fraud! Swerve transforms. Truck Quest! Swerve tackles Fracas! A massive banner slowly rises over the audience on the far side of the stadium as Blurr takes off toward the goal with the ball, and glows even brighter as the racer evades Blast Off's attempts to tackle him: B L U R R ! ! Wow, someone is dedicated. But then Scoop grabs the ball from him, despite apologizing for his actions. Ah well, for the sake of fair play, Blurr doesn't mind. Besides, it gives him a chance to snatch the ball from Blast Off once again! "Aww, thanks Blast Off! I didn't know you cared so much! Boredom can be worse than a piston rod up your tailpipes." FWOOOSH! He rushes the Combaticon. Blurr tackles Blast Off! The ball transforms into robot mode! The ball looks left. The ball looks right. The ball goes straight! After a long chase, the ball is finally caught by Blast Off. Blades starts scratching fire truck symbols into the astroturf. First Aid sees the ball get knocked away from Blurr and starts wandering towards another keg. He actually isn't drinking much more, but this is only because most of what he pours into his cube just winds up on the field. Briefly he considers transforming into ambulance mode so he can get there quicker, but there's enough of sober Aid there to know that drinking and driving don't mix. He doesn't make it, though, because SOMEBODY gets in her way. Oh oh. Hey, is she coming into me? *Squirm! I like thrashing!* Ahhh! "Shorry Fush, but I don't go in for these backdoor shenanigans. Sure I'm flattered. Maybe even a little curioush. But the answer is 'no'!" He then turns and runs away. Jogs away. Hobbles away? Totters away. Right into Blast Off's path! "Oh no my energon!" First Aid exclaims as it spills everywhere. First Aid tries to tackle Blast Off but he escapes. First Aid signals a new round. All players are now untackled. Round 16 has begun. Cyclonus gets to a particularly tricky bit on his taxes. He is so involved that he does not see Blast Off's frankly rather amazing catching of the ball. Blast Off misses his tackle and Blurr speeds away. The Combaticon is really starting to wonder if his luck is ever going to be anything but rotten today. Then Scoop- wait, sorry, "Scrapper"- tackles Blurr successfully and Blast Off seizes the chance to take possession of the ball! Another chance to redeem himself and NOT be introduced to Cyclonus'... whatever the heck it is. He starts footing it across the field as Fusillade comments on the stars, which gets the space shuttle's attention. "Yes, Fusillade. Gycony has taken us on a little trip. To get more money, since that's what I'm told makes the world go 'round. Just ask Swindle sometime." He spots Jazz coming up towards him, but is able to dodge him. Then the constant thorn-in-his-side, Blurr, comes zipping back, apparently seeking what he lost. He tries to hustle away, but Blurr is already right there. The 'Bot manages to take control of the ball, but Blast Off is determined- and possibly desperate. Sometimes the Decepticon brand of motivation works wonders. The Combaticon makes a spectacular leap, which Cyclonus totally misses, and regains the ball, running towards the goal. First Aid stumbles into his path as well, but he leaps into the air with ease and avoids the 'Bot, while still maintaining control of the ball. Spotting Fracas, he attempts a pass. And really hopes this sudden string of good luck continues... Well, luck in everything BUT Cyclonus and his taxes... Blast Off passes the ball to Fracas. Fracas has gotten a little bored while Blast Off was being harrassed by every Bot on the field. Good thing that Constructicon was there to do nothing about it. However suddenly he finds the ball at his feet, muttering to himself, not again." This time he decides not to bother kicking it long distance to the goal, but instead to run like a maniac directly at the goal with the ball and try getting it in the net that way. He also waves his weapon in the air to make himself looke scarier. He also decides to he might grow a goattee. Fracas shoots on goal! One untackled defender available: Swerve. Blades makes the save! The ball transforms into robot mode, "Ok, that? That was a nice save." "N'yOh ho ho, NOT so fast!" Fusillade calls after First Aid, and ever so daintily tips forward on one toetip, before swaying and immediately hipchecking him. "WE GOTTA MATCH SHOTS TOO! There'sh been a turnOVAHver!" Fusillade tries to tackle First Aid but he escapes. First Aid signals a new round. All players are now untackled. Round 17 has begun. First Aid keeps running away from Fusillade, spilling more and more of his drink. He's vaguely aware that, by Soccer Law, he must get more. "Eeee! Eee! Eee! Ee- OOF!" He runs smack dab into Cyclonus. The Protectobot looks way up at the terrifying Decepticon in command. With energized courage running through his cables, he says, "Hey what do your ears do?" He's forgotten that Fusillade is right behind him. Blades tries to slip some tax forms to Cyclonus via paper airplane. Fly, tax forms, fly! Then - Oh slag! Ball! Blades throws himself down on the ball again, getting a face full of astroturf. "Phthpbit." He stands back up, dusts himself off, and kicks the ball at... First Aid! Blades passes the ball to First Aid. Jazz watches downfield and sees Blades made another save. "Awesome dude!" Jazz watches Blades pass to his protectobot brother. "I will try and give you space ace!" Jazz lines up Fusillade because she seems to have a thing for FA so maybe a healthy distraction will help the medic. Jazz tries to tackle Fusillade but she escapes. Two-Tone Scion Pickup tries to cover Fracas by zipping around him as a truck. Hopefully if the ball comes this way it'll go in Swerve's window instead of landing in Fracas' hands like it has before. First Aid is still looking at Cyclonus when the ball lands /perfectly/ right in front of him. "Ahh!" Aid says. He knows what to do. He kicks widly at it... and misses. So he kicks wildly at it again!... and misses. "Huhhhhhh..." he tries AGAIN! And this time he makes contact, sending it sailing straight for the goal. First Aid shoots on goal! Three untackled defenders available: Blast Off, Fusillade, and Scoop. Cyclonus makes the save! The ball transforms into robot mode, "Imma lil' dizzy now..." First Aid signals a new round. All players are now untackled. Round 18 has begun. "They are for /this/" Cyclonus mutters to First Aid, as he reaches down and snatches the ball from the Autobot as he kicks it. Cyclonus then does the traditionally 'header' on the ball, his horns giving it extra spin as it arcs through the air towards Fracas (or Scourge, they are hard to tell apart). Cyclonus passes the ball to Fracas. Fusillade staggers down the field in the rough direction of the opposing field goal. She wobbles, then sinks to her knees, sobbing softly as she digs her fingers into the ROBOASTROTURF to keep from falling off the spinning stadium!! Fusillade moves to Zone 1. Orange Payloader ... got distracted after his successful tackle. By needing to catch up on the drinking because -someone- took half of the drinks he was suppose to have. And just now he's walking back into the playing field, feeling a lot better after some more refreshing liquid in his systems of a sort he really doesn't want to question what it was. "What did I miss?" The payloader more or less stands up on its end and folds the shovel back to become a heroic robot. Annoyingly that darn dirty scummy Blades svaes the day again. And Fracas can only watch as the ball goes back to First Aid, and then Cyclonus interupts it. Hmmm, those look awfully like bunny ears from here. Fracas is about to mention this to the scummy Blades when the ball comes shooting back to him, managing to reach him despite Swerves best efforts (probably even bounced through Swerves cab the way this ball has been working. As he gets the ball, Fracas turns, pulls his leg back ready to kick the ball, and as he does so shouts at it, "GET THE FRAG IN THAT NET OR I SHOOT YOU!" right after he kicks the ball he shouts at Blades, "AND THEN I SHOOT YOU!" Fracas shoots on goal! One untackled defender available: Swerve. Blades makes the save! The ball ooofs, "Thought for sure I was going in..." Fusillade tips on her side with a disgusted sound, glaring at the goal net. It's safe to assume that she's been keeping up with all the required drinking during the ball turnovers. Cyclonus watches the save with an annoyed expression on his face. Blades seems to be rather good at saving things. He moves 'Blades' to the top of his list. Two-Tone Scion Pickup saves the day by getting in the way! Well, really Blades did, but he helped. Blast Off successfully passes the ball to Fracas. There, that should have impressed- Oh Slag, Cyclonus wasn't even paying attention. Then Fracas misses the goal and the 'Bots nearly make another one. Fracas goes in for another goal- and Blades catches it, winning the event for the 'Bots. Are the stars just not.. aligned correctly, or something? He looks up- these are Gycony's stars, so...figures they wouldn't be, doesn't it? Not that he believes in such nonsense, but there are days. There are... just those days. This is one. Fracas sees the save and loses it, charges at the Protectobot, somehow he suddenly has a chair from the stands (it will probably be thrown onto the field in a few frames time, but the animators needed it now), as he reaches Blades he jumps and aims the chair at the Protectobots head. Combat: Fracas strikes Blades with his Street Fighter attack! <'Decepticon'> Cyclonus says, "While this 'football' match was lost, you will be glad to know that Fracas has performed within acceptable standards, Scourge." "Ok enough of this!" Kremzeek says as Blades makes the big save. He blows on his whistle. "Toot toot! Game over! Fighting Primes win and Glorious something something something something something something Galvatron lose! Score 2-1!" "WHAT?!" Lord Gycony bellows from the intercom. "There's more beer to drink!" "Shut it, fatty!" "Make me!" "I KILL YOU SO HARD!" the Kremzeek mascot runs off the field, plotting to hunt down Gycony and wrestle him into submission for this injury to Six Lasers' profits. Blast Off ignores the squabbling of Kremzeek and Gycony and the soccerfield brawling, instead heading over to drink more wine- and possibly take the entire wine barrel with him. Scoop rests his hands on his hips as the whistle is blown. "Welp, I guess that's the end of that. Good game and all, even if it was a bit awkward." Pause. "Now what are we suppose to d--" "THERE HE IS! THE GUY MAKING SCRAPPER LOOK BAD!" "--Huh?" Scoop looks over his shoulder at the shouting, as several of those Constructicon lookalikes that animators use to do the generic labor storm onto the field. ".. Oh, slag. Guess it's time for more running!" Scoop takes off at a gallop, with the horde of angry constructicon fanboys chasing after him. "I SWEAR IT WAS MISTAKEN IDENTITY!" Blades snatches the ball out of the air and shakes it, hard, shouting at the ball, "You thought for sure you were going in, you little punk? You haven't even taken me to a movie! ...though there have been loads of drinks. Pretty sure I have to get another one now?" And then Fracas beats Blades over the head with a chair. Blades tries to fling the chair back at Fracas like a Frisbee, holding the ball with his other hand. Combat: Blades misses Fracas with his Frisbee Chair (Punch) attack! Two-Tone Scion Pickup does a lap of the pitch before driving off into the locker room to... he's not sure what happens there, actually, but he knows that's where athletes go. Fracas proceeds to storm off the pitch, giving random people here and there a punch as he does so. A chair flies over his head unnoticed. Jazz watches as things start degerating slightly and the game is brought to an end. He facepalms but comforts himself knowing none ofhis guys started it. "Nice game Autobots. Don't lower to their level just walk away. I will get a party going somewhere."